


it's a small world

by coyotecrackers



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Eventual Smut, Fluff, M/M, Mild Smut, PTSD, Physical Disability, Possibly Triggering, Service Dogs, Shiro has PTSD, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-04 01:40:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11544762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coyotecrackers/pseuds/coyotecrackers
Summary: Shiro liked to think he was an adult. He had an apartment. He payed his taxes. He got excited about things like sales at the grocery store and really cheap silverware sets. However, the way he was acting now gave him uncomfortable flashbacks of his awkward high school days when he crushed in secret on his locker neighbor. The parallels between then and now were eerie and frankly embarrassing.Shiro falls hard for the local barista and struggles to find a way to talk to him. Luckily, he's got some good people to back him up.





	1. big boy pants

Shiro liked to think he was an adult. He had an apartment. He payed his taxes. He got excited about things like sales at the grocery store and really cheap silverware sets. However, the way he was acting now gave him uncomfortable flashbacks of his awkward high school days when he crushed in secret on his locker neighbor. The parallels between then and now were eerie and frankly embarrassing. The way he sat at the coffee shop just to watch the barista work was reminiscent of when he would idle at his locker to study his neighbor as he grabbed his things for the next class. Shiro spoke maybe two words to the boy he crushed on in high school, and hadn’t done more than order his drinks with the barista. He took a sip of his coffee. This was the fourth time he’d come to the coffee shop to sit and pine. Today was different, though, because today he had his brother Keith with him. Keith was home from college for the summer, and as much time as Shiro spent hopelessly infatuated with the barista, he wanted to spend time with his brother more. He sighed and dropped his head into his hand.

Keith looked up from his phone and gave Shiro a questioning look. “Everything alright?”

“I feel like I’m in high school all over again,” Shiro admitted. He was staring at the brown-haired barista behind the counter, who was currently working on an order for an impatient customer. His glasses sat low on his nose, and he pushed them up with his knuckle.

Keith followed his gaze to the counter, then let out a huff of laughter, turning his attention back to his phone. “You’re pathetic,” he teased.

Shiro furrowed his brow. He knew it was true, but he didn’t have the courage to fix it. All he had to do was just go up and talk to the guy. Only his insecurities and doubts stopped him. What if he didn’t like men? What if he was put off by Shiro’s missing arm? He had stopped being self-conscious about the amputated appendage long ago, realizing that it was a physical reminder of his time in the service. If he could live through an IED explosion, he could survive a conversation with the man he was crushing on. Why was real life so hard?

Keith snapped his fingers in front of Shiro’s face, and Shiro realized he’d been staring. “Hey, if you aren’t going to talk to him, can we at least go home? I have a thing with Lance tonight, remember? You can look for your big boy pants while I’m out.”

To be honest, Shiro had nearly forgotten about Keith’s date. He and Lance had been dating since high school, but while Keith went to college, Lance stayed home to work in his father’s garage and take care of his siblings. They probably hadn’t seen each other in a couple months. Lance was a good kid - Shiro had given him the Talk as soon as they started dating - and Keith was lucky to have him.

Shiro ignored Keith’s insult and stood from the table. “Sorry, we can go.” He grabbed his coffee and started for the door.

The barista looked up and noticed them just as they were about to exit and smiled warmly. “Thanks for coming, guys!” he chimed. “Have a good day.”

Shiro’s heart started beating faster, and he cursed himself for it. He wasn’t a kid anymore, damn it. His body could stop with all these feelings.

As soon as they got home, Keith changed into something nicer. Shiro vaguely remembered him saying something about a reservation across town for lunch. Keith left an hour later, and promised to be home before nightfall. Shiro was off work for the day, and figured he would go to the library to find a new book. He had finished his last one in a week.

Looking for one book turned into looking for several books, and Shiro left the library with a bag laden with new reading material. He had to put the bag down in order to unlock the door to his apartment, but it was empty when he stepped inside. Seeing as Keith wouldn’t be home for another few hours, Shiro decided to go for a run. It was a nice day, and the sun was out, which was rare this time of year. It was pretty warm out so he opted for a tank top and light shorts. Looking at himself in the mirror, he could see the scarring that started from where his right arm was amputated at the shoulder and continued in sharp slashes across his chest. He knew there was more on his side, but it was hidden by his shirt. Luckily, his face was saved from any terrible damage, except for a long scar across the bridge of his nose. He considered himself lucky. Not everyone who encounters an IED gets to live to tell about it.

He jogged for maybe five miles; he didn’t keep track. He ran down the street from his apartment building to the large park with the trail he knew well. He was going at a comfortable pace when he spotted him. The barista from the cafe. He was sitting against a tree with a book propped in his lap. The sun filtered through the leaves, creating patterns of light against his face and hair. Shiro wasn’t one to be overly dramatic, but the man he was looking at was comparable to an angel. His head felt light, and all he wanted to do was stop and stare, but he didn’t want to seem like a creep, so he kept jogging. For the rest of his run, he couldn’t get that image out of his mind.

When he finally got home, sweaty and tired, Keith and Lance were talking in the doorway. When they spotted him, Lance gave him a welcome wave. “Hey, Shiro,” he greeted. “Good run?”

“Yeah.” He was still thinking about the barista sitting under the tree, his hair ruffled lightly by the breeze. He wondered how it would feel to run his hand through it. It looked soft.

Lance wiggled his eyebrows teasingly. “So Keith tells me his older brother has a crush,” he tested.

Shiro shot an accusing glance at Keith, but his younger brother only shrugged.

Lance continued. “Well, if I were you, I would just ask for his number the next time you see him. ‘Hey, my name is Shiro. I think you’re very attractive. Can I get your number so I know when you get off shift? I’d like to get to know you better.’” Lance mimicked, pulling his shoulders back and standing straighter to try to mime Shiro’s posture.

Shiro chuckled at Lance’s antics, but no, it wasn’t that simple. Maybe someday he would work up the courage to talk to the barista, but it wouldn’t be any time soon. Lance said his goodbyes and Keith walked him down to his car.

Shiro stepped into the bathroom to shower and ran the water for several minutes to let it get hot and to make sure there wasn’t anything harmful in the pipes. His shower was fast and refreshing, and he was comfortably tired. Before getting into bed, he pulled his sheets back and took his pillow out of his pillowcase in search of any unwanted bugs or snakes. A habit from his deployment, but it was one he couldn’t shake.

Shiro knew he had PTSD. He saw a specialized therapist for it every other week. She helped him identify his triggers and learn how to avoid them. She had suggested applying for a service dog, and Shiro wasn’t opposed to it, but he didn’t know if he could handle the responsibility of a dog, and therefore was hesitant. Maybe he would get one once the New Year rolled around. It was July, so he had plenty of time to think.

When he slept that night, the first thing he dreamed of was coffee with dog shaped steam.

+++++

Shiro woke up at 7 am without an alarm clock in a cold sweat. He didn’t know what he had been dreaming about, but he was glad for it. He didn’t need to remember whatever was in his nightmare. He rubbed a hand over his face and made his way to the kitchen to start breakfast. He was careful to be extra quiet because Keith was still asleep. His shift at the restaurant didn’t start until three that afternoon, and he would be there until closing, so he had the whole morning to do whatever he liked. In the end, he ate French Toast with Keith before settling to start one of the books he borrowed the day before. He wanted to save his energy before working an eight hour shift.

Three o’clock came too soon, and Shiro got ready quickly and left. The restaurant was just nearing the end of its lunch rush, so for several hours he only had a few tables to wait on at a time, but as soon as the dinner crowd rolled in, he was busy with many more.

A new family sat down at a booth that had just been vacated, and Shiro spoke on impulse, first asking how they were doing and then asking if they were ready for drinks. It wasn’t until he looked up that he saw who it was. It was the barista. He didn’t know if he was just tired and seeing double or if the brown-haired man had a twin, but there was a nearly exact copy of him sitting across the table. Their parents sat next to them.

The barista’s clone looked over to his double. Her double? “You go first, Matt,” the now-obviously female said. “I can’t decide.”

Matt. So that was his name. It suited him, Shiro thought. He was obviously in his twenties, probably only a year or two younger than Shiro, but his face was still slightly round with baby fat. He looked up at Shiro with bright green eyes and Shiro almost melted. He could tell that Matt recognized him because his eyes widened and he smiled.

“Hey, I know you!” he started. “I see you at the cafe sometimes.”

Shiro somehow found a genuine smile in himself and he nodded. “Yeah, I go there a lot.” _To look at you._

Matt laughed lightly, and god, if that wasn’t the most beautiful thing Shiro had heard all day. “Funny seeing you here.”

“Yeah, what a coincidence.” Shiro’s heart was threatening to pound straight through his ribs, so in order to distract himself, he put his notepad on the table and pulled out his pen, squatting down so he could write. “Can I get you anything to drink?” he asked again, turning his attention to the others at the table.

He took their orders and then went to the other tables he was serving to check on them. He retreated to the back to get the drinks for Matt and his family. Shiro had mastered picking up and carrying a tray with one arm a long time ago, so it wasn’t an issue to bring all four of them their drinks. His mind was on autopilot. He would probably break down if it weren’t. He took orders for their food and took it to the kitchen window where Hunk, their head chef, snatched the paper before Shiro could even say anything.

Hunk skimmed the paper efficiently, and then turned to his cooking staff to yell the orders at them. Shiro leaned against the back counter, trying to process what was happening. The barista - Matt - was here at the restaurant and Shiro was serving him. What strange fate. What really made his breath hitch was that Matt remembered him. Shiro wondered if he would have the courage to talk to him tonight. Or maybe get his number. He took a deep breath, trying to channel his inner Lance. He was an adult. He could get a date like an adult.

He went around and collected dishes from his other tables while waiting for the food for Matt and his family. When it was finally ready, he had another server help him bring it out and distribute it. They ate slowly and talked animatedly, and Shiro’s heart could not catch a break. Every time he went and asked if they were alright, his heart rate increased and he had a hard time breathing. Jesus, at this rate, he was going to die of a heart attack before he even got the guy’s number.

When they looked ready for their check, Shiro steeled himself at the register. He put their receipt in the clip and then hesitated. _Just ask for his number_ , insisted Lance in his head. In a burst of bravery (or stupidity; he couldn’t tell) Shiro dug around in his apron for a scrap piece of paper and scribbled his name and number onto the back. He clutched the receipt and the paper tightly as he made his way over to their table. He placed the clip down with an easy smile that betrayed his inner struggle, saying that it was there when they were ready. Luckily, Matt and his sister sat on the outside of the booth, so Shiro was able to discreetly slide his extra sheet of paper in front of Matt. They locked eyes for a moment. Matt looked shocked but he took the paper and studied it, finally putting it in his pocket after a second. Shiro took that as a good sign.

When he came back, to collect their receipt, Matt smiled warmly at him as if Shiro hadn’t just tried to ask him out. The family left, and Matt glanced at him once before disappearing out the door. It wasn’t until the end of the night when he turned his phone back on that he saw the text message.

Unknown Number: _shiro? this is matt :) it was nice seeing you again. hopefully you’ll come to the cafe more often now that i can tell you when i’ll be there haha_

Despite himself, Shiro found himself smiling uncontrollably. He may be reverting back to his high school self, but damn did it feel worth it.


	2. such a dad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes sorry this is so late. I was on vacation without my laptop so it was hard to get any writing done. Anyway, it's here now! Thanks for being patient with me.

Shiro and Matt talked well into the night, mostly about nothing, but they did manage to set up a coffee date for that weekend. When he finally went to sleep, he was too tired to dream about anything.

All morning, Shiro was nervous for two reasons. One obviously being his date with Matt later in the week. The other being the date on the calendar. The large calendar in his kitchen had the date circled in red so that Shiro wouldn’t miss it. July 4th. Two days away. He had scheduled an extra session with his therapist so they could go over how he would handle it. His mind knew they were only fireworks, but all he heard were the awful sounds of guns going off, and suddenly he was taken back to the war and all the damage that came with it. His appointment was early in the morning, and he would have plenty of time before he started his shift at the restaurant.

When Shiro left his apartment, Keith was still sound asleep. He left a note on the table telling him where he would be. The way to his therapist's office was only a fifteen minute drive, and he rode the whole way with his windows down so that he could feel the breeze, despite the early morning chill. He didn’t like feeling enclosed.

His therapist was an enthusiastic younger woman named Dr. Allura Altea. She told him on his first visit to simply call her Allura; she said it might help him feel more comfortable. She greeting him with her characteristically bright smile as he stepped into her office.

“How are you doing today, Shiro?” she asked in a charming British accent. Her white hair was bobbed short and cut just below her chin.

“I’m doing alright,” he told her, sitting down on the couch opposite her chair. With a thought, he added, “A little nervous.”

“That’s perfectly alright,” she assured him. “I thought today we might talk you through the next few days.”

Shiro nodded. He knew it was something he needed.

“Do you want anything before we get started? Tea? Coffee?” Allura asked as she made her way to the warm pots by her window.

“Coffee, please,” he answered. “Black.”

Allura nodded and poured them both a cup. She put a packet of creamer in hers before bringing them over. Shiro took his, and the smell along with the warmth of the cup soothed him.

“First,” Allura started as she sat across from him, “are you staying at home?”

“Yes.”

“And will anyone be with you?”

Shiro hesitated. He assured Keith that he would be fine and had told him to go out with Lance. He couldn’t ask Matt to be with him. Not yet anyway. They had really only had one proper conversation with each other, and that was over text, so no, not Matt.

“No,” he finally answered. “I’ll be alone.”

“Will you be okay with that?” Allura asked him.

Shiro thought about the things she’d taught him before, about how to breathe properly during a panic attack, how to stay away from the loud noises, who to call in case of an emergency. He nodded.

“I’ll be on call all day on the Fourth, so don’t hesitate to contact me if you need anything,” Allura reminded him.

“I will,” Shiro responded.

They spent the majority of their time talking about how Shiro was doing, how was work, how he felt now that Keith was home. Towards the end of their session Allura pulled a small stack of papers out of her clipboard and handed it to Shiro. On the front of each page were names for different psychiatric service dog trainers. Shiro looked up at her with a furrowed brow.

“I think it’s a good idea to look at some of these in the future,” Allura explained. “They are all good services, and they are all kind people. I think you would benefit from a visit.”

Shiro looked down again at the papers in his hands, leafing through them again. She was right, and he knew it, but the small voice in his head whispered his fears about not being responsible enough to handle a dog. Allura had only mentioned a visit, though, and that couldn’t hurt. Finally, he conceded with a sigh.

“Alright,” he said. “I’ll check something out.”

Allura beamed at him. “Thank you, Shiro.”

By the time Shiro had to leave, they had discussed some options, and agreed that Shiro would go home to think about it, and come back in about a week to finalize things. He left with the service dog papers tucked away in a folder and an extra informational packet about the process of getting one.

When Shiro got back to the apartment, Keith was groggily eating cereal at the table. His eyes were half-closed, and his hair stuck up in odd directions. Shiro chuckled at the sight of his still half-asleep brother. He dropped the service dog folder on the counter before ruffling Keith’s hair. Keith glared at him, but was apparently still too tired to muster up a reply.

Shiro pulled a glass down from the cupboard and filled it with water. Checking the time, he realized that he still had a few hours before he had to go in for work. He turned, intending to ask Keith to go on a run with him, but found that his brother had picked up the folder and was examining it.

“What’s this for?” Keith asked, voice still raspy with sleep.

“Allura wants me to get a service dog,” Shiro explained.

Keith didn’t respond, only glanced up at his older brother thoughtfully. Finally he nodded and dropped the folder back onto the table. “You should. Dogs are good.” Keith lowered his head to put a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. He nodded again, as if to affirm the wisdom in his statement.

Shiro thanked his younger brother with a light chuckle. Keith wasn’t always the best at conversations in the morning.

“I have a week to think about it,” he clarified. “Do you want to come running with me? It’s a nice day.”

Keith looked confused for a second, his sleep-fogged brain still trying to catch up with Shiro’s sudden change of subject. Then he nodded and stood from the table. “Just let me get dressed first,” he said as he carried his bowl to the sink.

They were out the door ten minutes later and were headed down Shiro’s favorite running path through the park. Shiro loved running. It gave him a sense of freedom and movement - things that he had taken for granted while in the service. He relished in the breeze that flowed over him, and rather than despise the exhaustion, he welcomed it. It gave him something real to focus on.

Keith, on the other hand, did not find the same enjoyment that Shiro did. Through heavy breaths Keith moaned, “I don’t know why I agreed to come out with you. I hate running.”

“You need to stay healthy, Keith,” Shiro replied, only slightly out of breath. “And I don’t know how well you’re taking care of yourself all the way up in college.”

Keith snorted. “You’re such a dad.”

+++++

Their run was only about five miles; Shiro would have liked to do more, but Keith refused, plus he needed to start getting ready for work. Shiro went to his room to get things for a shower. Checking his phone, he saw a text from Matt. He smiled, despite himself, and opened it.

Matt: _goooood morning! looks like someone is an early bird ;)_

Attached was a picture of Shiro and Keith running through the park. Shiro’s hair was plastered to his face, and he thought he looked absolutely horrid. Below that was a second text.

Matt: _sorry didn’t mean to be a creep but you were distracting me from my reading_

Shiro thought for a minute before typing out a reply.

Shiro: _I think anyone would be distracted if they saw a monster._

The reply came instantly.

Matt: _if you think you look like a monster like that then god save my heart for when you think you look good_

Shiro: _I hope you’re ready for this weekend, then._

As soon as he sent it, Shiro put his phone down. He never thought of himself as much of a flirt, but Matt made it so easy. He walked away, even as he heard his phone buzz with an incoming text, and headed for the bathroom. He was incredibly, embarrassingly, excited for their date - another sign that he was reverting back to his high school self. But before he could do that, he had to get through July 4th. That was what worried him the most.


End file.
